


Taking it Slow (Part 1)

by SoonerOrLater



Series: I Guess I'll Just Lie Here [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Angst, Coming Out, Developing Relationship, M/M, Patrick Point of view, post episode
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26008954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoonerOrLater/pseuds/SoonerOrLater
Summary: Patrick couldn't sleep. He can't concentrate on work either. So he lies on the floor and thinks.Post-Episode for 'Grad Night' and Patrick has some thinking to do.
Relationships: David Rose/Patrick Brewer
Series: I Guess I'll Just Lie Here [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886797
Comments: 5
Kudos: 93





	Taking it Slow (Part 1)

It was dark outside still when Patrick fumbled to open the store. The bell chimed as he unlocked it and then flipped the catch back over behind him. He breathed in the scent of it for a moment. It already had started to feel like home bizarrely. That mix of scented candles and bath salts, not as sweet as it should be, faintly woody in some ways, also fresh. It was looking good in here, he mused as he looked at it in the dark. He crossed to the counter and put his keys and wallet under the counter. After a moment’s thought he put his phone there as well. He was constantly pulling it out, looking at it. Debating texting David. Thinking better of it and putting it back. 

Subconsciously he reached up and brushed a hand across his mouth, thinking about last night. He shook his head. No. Focus. Do some work. You’ve been up since five you might as well make use of it. 

He got out the ledger, and started to look at the numbers. They swarmed in front of his eyes. Too early. He told himself. Don’t go messing up the books because you’re half awake. 

Stock. Stock he could do. There were about 10 unopened boxes waiting to be unpacked, and rearranged into the store. He was sure David would re-re-arrange anything he did but he could make a start on unpacking at least. 

It took him all of 10 minutes. And he was surrounded by an array of lotions and creams he had, if he was honest, no idea what to do with. Maybe he could clean. Or re-arrange the existing stock. But David had a system he wasn’t entirely familiar with yet. He could sweep. He got the broom out. But he’d need to mop as well. So he filled that. But the stock was all over the floor. He’d have to put that away too. He stopped. Surrounded by a mess he’d made, at the back of the store. He’d made a mess. THat’s all he’d made. 

‘Ok breathe’ he told himself ‘You’re just overwhelmed’ a thought occurred to him. ‘Ridiculous’ he told himself. He was being ridiculous. That said, it had worked last time. 

With a quick glance at the still dark outside world Patrick shrugged and got down on the floor behind the centre counter. It was hard and cool and felt far more refreshing than his bed had. 

He’d finally gone to bed at 12. He’d got home a little after 11- turned out he and David had talked a lot at the cafe- but then Ray had wanted to talk. He thinks he did a good job of styling out his ‘Birthday Dinner’ with David as just that, a Birthday dinner between co-workers, friends. Ray had certainly assumed they’d spent the evening talking shop as he was very interested in the progress of things. And Patrick was happy to entertain that if it meant not thinking for a few minutes longer about everything else that dinner implied. 

Once in bed he’d stared at his phone for far too long. Willing himself to text David but talking himself out of it. He had no idea what he was doing here. With a woman he would text to make sure they got home ok, or to say thank you for a nice evening when he got home. He didn’t abide by the stupid ‘rules’ other guys had about how long to wait until texting. You had a nice time, you said thank you. You wanted to see someone again, you said so. But this...this was all...something else. 

At 12.30 his phone had pinged. 

‘I had a really nice Birthday. Thank you. X’

Patrick had smiled, then another message. 

‘I meant to send that earlier, but my parents arrived with cake. There was singing, it was a whole thing. Anyway I’ll bring us some cake to the store tomorrow x’

Patrick had smiled a wide grin at that. 

‘I had a nice time too. Happy Birthday David. X’

Then quickly 

‘You’d better make good on that cake. X’

He put his phone away and forced himself to attempt to sleep. But he hadn’t managed it. Hours of staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning later, he’d given up and walked into work. And now he was lying on the floor staring at another ceiling wondering what on earth he had done. 

It was good. He told himself. It was really good. Wasn’t it? 

Breathe Patrick. He told himself. 

He’d replayed the moment over and over in his mind. The whole drive home he’d been willing himself. Kiss him, just kiss him. Maybe David hadn’t been clear it was a date to start with. Hell Patrick wasn’t even sure he was clear on that. But by the time they’d moved onto dessert- some kind of chocolate tropical fusion abomination that they both agreed was a mistake but ate anyway- Patrick couldn’t mistake the fact that David was smiling at him in a way that told him this was something more. 

But as they sat in the car it had seemed an insurmountable chasm to Patrick. And he started to curse himself even before it was over. He wanted this. He wanted whatever this change meant, most importantly he wanted to kiss David. And he couldn’t. He’d seen David move towards him, he’d fractionally moved his head then his overthinking had kicked in again. Luckily David had the confidence in it-them maybe- Patrick suddenly lacked. 

In the moment it was everything. And nothing like anything Patrick had ever experienced. He closed his eyes again now thinking about it. He had always assumed all the songs, novels, movies were exaggerating. Kissing was fine. Nice even. But he’d never felt that ‘magic’ he was supposed to feel. The second he felt David’s hand on his cheek, his lips meeting his suddenly pieces of everything he’d ever heard about kissing fell into place. ‘Oh, this was it’ he realised. You were all right all of you. And I was wrong. 

I was wrong. He kept coming back to that. He’d been wrong all this time. 

The minute David pulled back Patrick missed him. Which was stupid he was sat right there. And the minute they pulled back his conscious brain kicked in again. He had to tell him. And risk ruining everything. 

But it hadn’t. 

He had assumed David with all his worldly coolness would reject Patrick’s awkward confession. That it would suddenly become a stupid kiss and nothing more. And maybe that would have been enough. If it had to be. 

But he’d smiled. He’d said they could talk whenever Patrick wanted. 

So why was he so scared to talk about it? 

Because it meant everything really had changed. Patrick looked around the store from his vantage point on the floor. This store they’d built from nothing. That David had imagined and he’d somewhat over confidently declared he could make happen. And they had. 

He’d been pulled to David, in a way he couldn’t describe. He didn’t have a name for. He wasn’t ready yet to put a label on it. If he looked too deep that’s what was holding him back right now. He wasn’t ready. It was one thing to take that leap- to let David take that leap for them. But what did that mean for him? He could try and answer, but that was a box he wasn’t ready to open. Not just yet. 

His mind started spiralling again. David. David who had so many partners in his past- Patrick hadn’t known him long but that much was clear. David who was clearly so experienced. Patrick felt his chest start to tighten in panic. Was he ready for this? Any of it. A kiss was one thing. But what about everything else? He didn’t even know how to be around David when he walked in. Should they hug? What about in the future, if there was one. He darkly reminded himself. Would they hold hands? Did David do that with people? Would Patrick wrap an arm around him like he had Rachel as they walked down the street. Nope shut her out of your mind he warned himself. Would they sit on a sofa together leaning against each other watching TV? How did you share a bed? Were there a set of rules Patrick didn’t know about that somehow David would. 

Breathe. He told himself. 

And of course, what about sex? 

He’d thought about it. More than he let himself admit. With David, fleetingly. He’d always shut it down as inappropriate. ‘He’s your partner’ he reminded himself. You couldn’t be thinking about him that way, it’ll ruin things. Sometimes the thoughts crept in though. He’d thought about others. When he was younger, when he didn’t want to. He always had if he really thought about it. He just let himself believe everyone did. When you watched a movie or even porn. It’s just the sex in general turning you on. It’s not the man. It’s just all sexy. It’s fine. Even when he’d let himself experiment, let his mind wander, he told himself it was just an experiment. One that he’d shut his laptop quickly afterward and take a shower. Indulgences he’d give into only every now and then. Telling himself everyone did, just they didn’t speak about it. He continued to join in with the guys talked about women over a beer after a baseball game. He pretended everything was fine with Rachel. There she was again. That his attention to her was just his generosity as a partner. That the safe, fine functional sex they had was to be expected after so many years. Even the all-too-frequent breakup and makeup sex was always more sad than passion-filled. 

He rubbed his hands through his hair and scrunched up his face in frustration. He was 30 years old and terrified of sex like a teenager. Terrified and excited. This was a whole new world of...something. But he didn’t have a map. He didn’t understand how this worked. I mean in principle he did, and despite his best efforts imagination got him the rest of the way. But he was used to knowing what he was doing. Taking charge. It had been the only way through. And now he had to admit he didn’t know what he was doing. 

‘Ask to take it slow’ he said out loud to nobody. 

Wait for David. He told himself. You can’t do anything until you see him. Just wait until you see him. 

It was starting to get light out. He should get up. Finish tidying the stock. Get ready for the day. Maybe go to the cafe and get some food. 

He wasn’t ready yet. Maybe he’d just lay here a few more minutes. Maybe think about those precious seconds in his car a little longer. There it was safe. On the floor it was safe. Maybe he’d just lay there a little longer with that.

**Author's Note:**

> While the world seems a bit overwhelming (and while I had a deadline to meet) these short reflective pieces just keep falling out of my head...
> 
> As the title suggests, David is doing some thinking at the same time...


End file.
